Separated
by Haiza Tyri
Summary: Three years later, Charlie tries to figure out who he has become in his twin brother's place, and Jean struggles with loving him. A series of ficlets. Please see my friend's story for an entirely different point of view: /s/6454809/1/Separated
1. Jean

**Author's Note: I recently watched the 9-minute movie "Inseparable," with Benedict Cumberbatch and Natalie Press and was absolutely enchanted by it. It is almost entirely wordless; all the important bits are shown without words, and when there is dialogue, it's only about what is unimportant. It's an exquisite and terrible story. You can watch it here: http:/ www . youtube . com/watch?v=_KA5yMa15nE , but I will also give a brief synopsis so these ficlets make sense. **

**A man named Joe (Benedict Cumberbatch) is married to Jean (Natalie Press) and has a small son. On a normal day he goes to the doctor and learns he has a brain tumor that will kill him. Distraught, he contacts his identical twin brother Charlie (Benedict Cumberbatch), who is a drunk and in debt to bookies, and convinces him to exchange places so that his wife will have a husband and their son will have a father. There is a slow scene showing them trading clothes and an emotional scene showing their parting and Joe slowly walking away (to commit suicide, I believe, though that is left unsaid). Then Charlie, looking exactly like Joe, goes home to Joe's house, probably hoping he can deceive Jean. She comes out of the house joyously to meet her husband, but the moment she lays eyes on Charlie, her expression changes to one of horror. The little boy comes running out of the house, and Charlie/Joe picks him up and holds him, giving Jean a pleading look. That is how it ends. **

**I'm slightly obsessed with this little story. It's heartbreaking and exquisitely told without words, which makes it even more impactful. Of course I began wondering what happened next, what the son would do when he finds out the man he grew up calling "Dad" isn't really his father, what Jean would do when she realizes she might be falling in love with Charlie/Joe... So here are my impressions of the future in a series of ficlets.**

**

* * *

**

_Jean_

Three years later, she realized she was beginning to love her husband. Joe—the first Joe, the _real_ Joe—was fading away in her memory, and Joe—the Joe she had learned not even to think of as Charlie—was becoming real, not her enemy, not the man who had stolen Joe's place, but the man who was her husband.

There was a slight sensation of horror with the realization. For three years she had held on to Joe—the real Joe, _her_ Joe—rejecting this interloper's Joe identity. Yearly they gave each other meaningless little Christmas gifts and lavished all their attention and gifts on Nick. Daily they faced each other at the breakfast table, made conversation, talked about the bills, took Nick to school or the doctor or football practice. Nightly they got into the same bed, and she turned her back on him, listening to his breathing until she heard he was asleep before going to sleep herself. For the first year she had cried herself to sleep every night and knew he heard her. For the second year she lay stiff and rebellious and knew he could feel her anger. Anger at him for not being Joe, for trying to be Joe, for trying _so hard._ For the last year she had very simply gone to sleep. Now suddenly she was lying awake, intensely aware of him next to her, feeling rather than hearing every breath, and she was afraid. Afraid Joe would disappear forever. Afraid of loving this Joe-Charlie person when she didn't even know who he was.

* * *

**Author's second note: My friend Pickwick12 has also written a short series about this sad, wonderful little movie, and she comes at it from an entirely different point of view. I find her take to be very moving and fascinating, though it's not the way I see the story. We both got so much out of this delicious little movie!  
**

**http:/www . fanfiction . net/s/6461993/1/The_Decision**


	2. JoeCharlie

_Joe-Charlie_

He didn't know who he was anymore. Was he Joe? Was he Charlie? How could he be either? He'd never felt quite real next to Joe. Joe the responsible, Joe the good twin, Joe the leader. When Joe had married, Charlie had drifted away, trying to find out who he was apart from Joe. The gambling, the alcohol, both had helped at first, helped him feel he was somebody, but soon it had all dwindled again into a shadowy man pushed here and there by every bookie and thug who found him an easy target. And then Joe. Joe with his shattering news. Joe with his shattering idea. Always the one who had the ideas, Joe. Always the one who knew how to carry them out and could persuade Charlie to go along. Charlie went along and, as always, sacrificed himself for the older, more _real_ twin he worshipped. It wasn't much of a sacrifice, after all, because who was Charlie, anyway? In becoming Joe, he became _someone._ But he could never really be Joe, not the Joe Joe had been.

So who was he, this strange Joe-Charlie hybrid, this neither-Joe-nor-Charlie husband and father who played a part and longed to be a real husband and father?


	3. Nicholas

_Nicholas_

He came home from work—that job he did so well as Joe, would have done appallingly as Charlie, hated every moment. He parked the car, opened the door, got out, walked slowly toward the walk. And the door opened, and for a sudden, sickening moment it was three and a half years ago. Joe had just gone, forever, and he was walking toward the walk, dreading the first meeting, the first attempt at deceiving another man's wife. And Jean was coming out, smiling that little smile she had for Joe alone, and any moment the smile would be wiped away, replaced by horror. The horror that had never gone away.

But this was three and a half years later, and the smile was not the smile for Joe. It was a new smile, an entirely new smile. A smile that, for the first time, encompassed _him._ He stood on the walk as he had stood there three and a half years ago, but this time it was different. For the first time, he had a place of his own in the world.

Jean put out her hand to him. He put his own in it.

"Do something for me," he said later, holding her close against him.

"What?"

"Nicholas. My middle name—_his_ middle name—the name we shared. The name of his—my—our son. Call me Nicholas."

Not Joe, not Charlie. Something new and different. Both of them and neither.

"Nicholas," she said.

* * *

**Author's Note: There may be one more additional chapter, from little Nick's point of view. I really should, as it was thinking about him that made me want to write these ficlets in the first place.**


End file.
